Page 46 - A Woman Is No Man
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Isra




                                                         Spring 1990


                Isra arrived in New York the day after her wedding ceremony, via a twelve-

                hour flight from Tel Aviv. Her first glimpse of the city was from the plane
                as  they  approached  John  F.  Kennedy  Airport.  Her  eyes  widened  and  she
                pressed her nose against the window. She thought she had fallen in love. It
                was  the  city  itself  that  captivated  her  first,  immaculate  buildings  stories
                high—hundreds of them. From above, Manhattan looked so thin, like the
                buildings could just crack it in half, as though they were too heavy for that
                small sliver of land. As the plane neared the earth, Isra felt herself swell up.

                The Manhattan skyline turned from toylike to mountainous, its towers and
                citadels shooting upward like fireworks bursting into the sky, overwhelming
                in height and power, making Isra feel small, yet at the same time bewildered
                by their beauty, as if they were something out of a fairy tale. Even if she
                had read a thousand books, nothing could compare to the feeling she had
                now as she inhaled the view.

                     She could still see the skyline when the plane landed, though now it was
                a  faint  outline  with  a  bluish  hue  on  the  far  horizon.  If  Isra  squinted,  it
                almost  seemed  like  she  was  looking  at  the  mountains  of  Palestine,  the
                buildings like dusty hills in the distance. She wondered what else she would
                see in the days to come.
                     “This is Queens,” Adam told her as they waited in line for a cab outside
                the airport. Once inside the minivan, Isra sat near a window in the back row,

                hoping  Adam  would  sit  beside  her,  but  Sarah  and  Fareeda  joined  her
                instead.  “It’s  about  a  forty-five-minute  ride  to  Brooklyn  where  we  live,”
                Adam continued as he sat beside his brothers in the middle row. “If we’re
                not stuck in traffic, that is.”
                     Isra  studied  Queens  through  the  taxicab  window,  eyes  wide  and

                watering in the March sunlight. She  searched for  the immaculate skyline
                she had seen from the plane, but it was nowhere in sight. All she could see
                were endless gray roads, curving and looping back in on themselves, with
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